


Back to the Top

by StreetSolo



Series: The Magical Diaries of Tori Brown-Grabiner [2]
Category: Magical Diary
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Consumation, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Forced Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Marriage, Oaths & Vows, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sex, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Witches, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSolo/pseuds/StreetSolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After recovering from an ex-lover's memory charm, Tori Brown and her husband and teacher, Hieronymous Grabiner, are determined to make their relationship last. But will their married life be as happy and blissful as they both wish it to be? Continue to follow Tori's life with Hieronymous from her summer after sophomore year, throughout her junior year at Iris Academy. </p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5554778/chapters/12813041">The Cracks in Her Memory</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

                My second year at Iris Academy was finally over. It felt like it had gone by a lot faster this year, although I supposed that may have been because my memories of Hieronymous were missing for most of it, and I was unconscious for the rest. But we had quickly made up for lost time, and we were together now, not just together and married, but actually living together, in the same room, in the same bed. It seemed so strange that one year ago today I was relishing the feeling of my first kiss when we’ve shared so many kisses since that time. Even if I tried, I don’t think I could count them all.

                Virginia tried convincing me to go to the May Day ball this year, but I knew Hieronymous would never want to and to be honest, I didn’t want to either. It had been a long time coming, but I was finally ready for it to be a special night for both of us. Considering last year had been our first kiss, it seemed appropriate to make tonight another night of firsts.

                I wait patiently for Hieronymous to get done with last minute make-up finals and head back to the room. “You okay?” he asks me when he finally comes in that night.

                “Yeah,” I reply. I had been sitting at the end of the bed, just zoning out into space. The year was over. My memories were restored, and I was alive. Hieronymous and I were together. When all was said and done, that was all that mattered.

                “You can still go to the dance-“ he offers, but I just shake my head.

                “No,” I say quickly. “But you had a long day. Why don’t you go take a shower?”

                He gives me a strange look. “You sure?”

                “Yeah,” I say. I wait for him to disappear into the bathroom before I slip into his closet and pull out my wedding dress. I quickly slide into it as the shower water starts, using black magic to make the necessary adjustments here and there. He doesn’t take long, and I quickly sit down on the edge of the bed as I wait. I can feel my heart racing in my chest and I reach up and cradle the dark blue stone between my fingers, allowing myself to be calmed by the steady pulse of his heartbeat between them.

                The bathroom door opens suddenly, and he comes walking out in his usual bedroom attire: pajama pants, no shirt. He looks me up and down, and I blush, looking away. “I thought it would be appropriate.”

                “You look beautiful,” he says, and I smile, looking down at my hands.

                “I’m nervous,” I admit as he walks over to me. He puts his finger underneath my chin and forces my eyes up to meet his, just like he did when we shared our first kiss.

                “We don’t have to do this today,” he says gently. “There’s no rush-“

                “No, I want to,” I say, and he seems to wait for me to continue. “What?”

                “That’s it?” he asks. “No more speeches?”

                I laugh, looking back down. “No, I think I’ve had enough speeches for one year. I think right now I am literally speech _less_.”

                He laughs, and I can see that he is just as awkward and nervous as I am. “So Mr. Grabiner, are you going to kiss your bride?”

                He cups my face in both hands, bringing my lips up to meet his. He kisses me softly, delicately, and I can feel myself being drawn into him. I can feel myself wanting him. I wasn’t ready before, but now I’m sure of it. I want to spend every single day of the rest of my life with this man, and I want to give myself to him completely.

                “Are you ready, Mrs. Grabiner?” he asks, holding out his hand for mine.

                I smile and put my hand in his without hesitation. “Ready.”

                “First,” he says softly, running his hand along the length of my wedding dress. “We should probably take this off of you. I don’t want it getting ripped.” He moves his fingers slowly down my chest and whispers something under his breath, and the dress is instantly teleported off my body. I can see it appear just behind him, folded neatly over the back of his desk chair.

                I’m standing naked in front of him, and I let out a slow breath as I take a step closer to him. I put my hands on either side of his pants and pull them down slowly, letting him step out of them. We’re both completely naked in front of each other now, and I can feel my heartbeat racing in my chest. I stare at him for a few moments, refusing to drop my eyes, refusing to break the tension that is forming between us.

                He takes me suddenly. His hands wrap around my body, pulling me towards him, and I don’t resist. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, running my hands down the bare skin of his back. He moves his hand back up to my cheek, angling my face to kiss me just the way he wants me to, running his tongue playfully against my bottom lip.

                I moan as I run the tip of my nose against his neck and kiss him in his sweet spot by his ear, just where his jaw and neck touch. He groans as one of my hands fist in his hair and suddenly I feel him put both of his hands on my hips and push me backwards towards the bed. I sit down and scoot back, and he is on top of me in less than a second, his lips pushing against mine. I run my fingertips over his shoulders, down his back, trying to feel as much of him as I can.

                He props himself on one elbow and continues to kiss me, one hand running down the curve of my body. He reaches up to grab one of my breasts and I gasp with need as he runs his thumb over my nipple. He moves over me slowly, my warm, flushed skin against his as he captures my lower lip between both of his. He runs his thumb down my cheek, down my neck, back to my breast again, touching me gently with his fingertips. I let a low groan escape my throat as my hips buck up into his, desperate with longing.

                “Shhh,” he purrs in my ear. “Not yet.”

                I moan and continue to buck my hips in a slow, deliberate motion as he kisses my neck, sucking softly as he does so. He continues kissing me, down my neck, between my breasts, running his hands down my sides as he kisses my navel and lower. I feel a slightly jolt as the tip of his tongue touches the tip of my clit, and I throw my head back into the pillows. “Keep going?” he asks.

                “Yes.” It comes out in a rush, and immediately I can feel the hot breath of his mouth against me as he takes me in his mouth. He kisses gently at first, getting a feel for the area, intermittently using his tongue to keep me wanting. He pauses for a moment, placing a gentle kiss at the apex of my inner thigh.

                “Do you like this?”

                “Yes.” I sit up suddenly and grab his arms, pulling him over me. With one hand on his cheek and the other on his shoulder I kiss him, tasting my own sticky-sweet juices against his lips. He kisses me back with such intensity that it makes me dizzy and I pull away slightly, my forehead resting against his.

                “You feel really good,” I whisper against his lips as I trail my hand down his body. I gently tease my fingertips down the length of his shaft, feeling it for the first time, and he moans against my skin, placing feather-light kisses on my neck. I rub my thumb just over his tip, spreading the small bit of liquid that has collected there.

                “Can I?” he asks, as I feel his hand glide up my inner thigh, and I nod quickly as he pushes a finger into me. I breathe out sharply, gripping his arm, before I relax and take in the sensation of him being inside of me. He begins to move his finger in and out of me in a slow rhythm, and I buck my hips up, encouraging him to pick up the pace. He adds another finger and waits until I’ve adjusted to the additional girth before he quickens his speed, pumping his fingers in and out of me.

                I moan suddenly, throwing my head back and arching my back off the bed. I can see the smirk on his face as he watches me unravel in front of him and I put my hands on either side of his face, pulling him back down to kiss me.

                I feel a desperate sense of need suddenly wash over me as desire pools hot and wet in my core. “I need you,” I whisper urgently against his lips. “Please, Hieronymous.”

                He breathes out and removes his fingers slowly. I hesitate for a moment as he positions himself over me and I bite my lip in anticipation. “Are you sure?” he whispers, his eyes locking with mine.

                “Yes,” I breathe. “ _Hieronymous-_ ” He pushes into me so suddenly I cry out, and he stills, watching me carefully. “Keep going.” I wrap my legs around his back as he slowly thrusts into me and I arch my back, desperate for more sensation. “Faster.”

                “No,” he says and I pout, working my hips against his to encourage him to go faster. “It’s your first time. I want to take it slow.”

                “It’s your first time too,” I remind him, and he just smirks at me in response. Suddenly he grabs my arm and pulls me up, and I adjust my position so that I’m sitting on top of him. I can feel him sinking deeper into me and I groan, my teeth gently nipping into the soft skin of his shoulder.

                “Tori,” he groans, and I move to kiss him again, a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, as he begins to pick up the pace. I push my chest against his and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him, keeping his body close to my own. He has one hand on my breast and the other tangled in my hair, fisting at the roots as he thrusts faster and faster.

                “Oh fuck,” I whisper, and I press my forehead into his shoulder. I feel dizzy with exhilaration and I can feel myself building, and I am so, so close-

                I can feel his hand along the nape of my neck, forcing me back up to kiss him, and as our lips touch, I come undone. Our teeth accidently click as I brush into him, my body shaking as I feel myself come around him.

                “Oh Tori oh _fuck_.” He presses his forehead into my shoulder as he comes into me, and I continue my slow grind against him, determined to ride out the sensation for as long as possible. He murmurs something against my skin before kissing my collarbone softly.

                “Mm?”

                “I love you.”

                I smile as I take his face in my hands again, forcing him to look at me. “I think I love you way more right now.” I kiss him softly, and he traps my bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it out as I pull away. I giggle and rest my head against his shoulder, snuggling into him.

                “How was that?” he asks, as I place a few gentle kisses along his neck.

                “Good.” I reach up and kiss his jawline.

                “Just good?” he asks, and I playfully rub my nose against his as I place my hands flat on his shoulders and slowly lift myself off of him.

                “I think you know it was better than just good,” I say as I lay back against the pillows. “Or do you want me to beg for more?”

                He just laughs as he strokes my hair, and I lean into his touch. “Tomorrow. Sleep now.”

                “Mm.” He slips his arm around me and I recline into his warm embrace. “Tomorrow…” I mumble, but I quickly slip off into a deep and peaceful sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

                When I wake up the next morning, he’s already up. “Do you always wake up before me?” I ask, peeking at him with only one eye open.

                “Habit,” he replies simply. He’s reading a book in one arm, like he usually is. “How did you sleep?”

                “Good,” I reply. I feel a blush creeping across my cheeks. We had been living together for a few short months now, but we had never been really, truly intimate until last night. I bite my lower lip as I smile up at him, feeling suddenly shy.

                “And what has made you shy all of a sudden?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at me. I flush harder. I forgot how well he can read me.

                “I’m not shy,” I try to say in my usual cocky tone, but my voice comes off too quiet, too breathy, even to my own ears.

                “Could it be because of something we did last night?” He closes his book with one hand and sets it on the bedside table. He runs a hand through my hair and I relish in the sensation, leaning into his touch.

                “Possibly,” I say. I close my eyes and lay my cheek against his side, letting my lips brush against his soft, warm skin. I kiss him slowly, tenderly, before I suddenly get an idea.

                I take advantage of the lack of sheets between us to roll over on top of him, straddling him on either side. He raises an eyebrow, but seems only mildly curious at this new development. I reach forward and put my hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a kiss. He kisses back, but only just, leaving me to slowly roll my hips into his, trying to spur him on.

                “More?” he asks, and I nod my head quickly. He smiles and strokes my cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Was last night really that good?”

                I pause for a second, feeling me come back to myself. “No,” I say with an indignant, happy smile.

                “No?” he asks, bemused.

                I lower myself down, pressing my chest to his. “I want rougher,” I say, my eyes glinting with a spark of mischievous excitement.

                He returns it, but only for a second. “Tori-“

                “Rougher,” I repeat. “Not like super rough, or, or, anything, but, but, you know, like-“ I growl softly in the back of my throat, and I somehow manage to pull it off pretty well.

                He stares at me for a moment, and suddenly I feel like I’ve embarrassed myself beyond all ends before he suddenly sits up, pushing me off of him, and pinning me to the bed. He rolls on top of me, his face in mine. “Like this?”

                I bite my lip and stare up at him, feeling the desire starting to drip slowly into my veins. “Mmhmm.”

                “I think I can do that,” he says as pulls on my earlobe with his teeth. He slowly works his way down my neck with a series of forceful kisses before he gently bites at my shoulder, nipping me with his teeth. He seems nervous about it, and he’s still being far too gentle with me. Professor Grabiner, the tough, mean, scary teacher, is actually quite gentle in bed. The thought makes me giggle.

                “Something amusing?” he asks, and I stop giggling. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Instead, I just force him into a seated position and climb into his lap, much like I had last night. I can feel his cock, still not fully erect, against my clit, but I ignore it for now.

                Instead, I go to work on his neck, kissing and sucking passionately, throwing a good breathy moan in there for good measure. I sink my fingernails into his back as I bite down on his shoulder and then move my lips towards the base of his neck, sucking and teasing the sensitive skin there. My fingernails are short, but they get the job done, as I can feel him brace himself as I drag my fingertips down his back. He grabs the back of my neck to steady me, taking a deep breath in as I continue my assault on his tender flesh.

                Suddenly, as if he can’t take it anymore, he shoves me off of him. With my legs still wrapped around his waist, he gets back into position on top of me. At first I think he’s going to tell me to stop, tell me I was being too rough, but instead he leans down and captures one of my nipples in his mouth. I gasp at the sudden contact. He puts a hand on my hip bone to hold me in place, and he’s holding me so tightly it’s almost, but just not painful. I roll my hips up towards his, and he bites down on my nipple suddenly, causing me to cry out.

                “You okay?” he asks, pulling away from me slightly.

                “Don’t stop,” I tell him. “Don’t stop unless I actually say ‘stop,’ okay?”

                He tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows before going back down, kneading my right breast in one hand while covering my left with his mouth. He leaves my nipple alone now, and it honestly feels a bit sore, but I’m quickly distracted from the pain as he bites and sucks at the tender skin of my breast.

                “Fuck,” I pant. I can feel his fingertips squeezing into my hips now, and for some reason the firm grip he has on me turns me on more than I would have expected. I am bucking my hips towards him now at a constant pace, one hand fisting in his hair, the other grabbing loosely at the pillow beside me.

                He loosens himself from between my legs suddenly, and I’m about to look up to see what he’s doing when suddenly I feel him bite down into the tender flesh of my thigh, right outside my opening. I lose vision for a second and cry out, arching my back into the air until I’m supporting myself on my shoulders. He doesn’t stop, though. Instead, he just continues to my pussy, kissing and sucking at a frantic pace. I’m thankful that he’s not using his teeth here, as I think he actually tore some skin on my upper thigh. He continues licking and sucking, both of his hands firmly planted on either side of my narrow hips.

                I dare myself up enough to sneak a peek and see that both sides of my hips are very red from where he had been holding me, the left side almost purple. Was he really holding me hard enough to leave bruises? I lean back into the pillows again as he pulls his mouth away from me, sticking two fingers inside of me. “I think you could be wetter.”

                I scrunch my eyes shut and let out a groan from between clenched teeth. “Hieronymous-“ Suddenly I’m too needy. I need him. I need him touching me, not just there, but all over. I want to feel his hot, flushed skin against mine. I want to feel his soft skin underneath my lips and run my hands through his hair as he fucks me senseless.

                With another growl from low in my throat, I sit up suddenly and he silently obeys, pulling himself into a seated position as I slide down onto him. I go down a lot smoother than I had last night, and I still for a moment as I press my forehead into his, relishing the sensation of how deep he is inside of me.

                I start to move my hips against his, but he pushes me back suddenly, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I put my hands on his upper arms as he steadies himself over me, trying to keep himself inside of me as we change positions. Slowly, I move my hands up over his arms, over his shoulders, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pushes himself deeper into me, lowering his chest onto mine as I lay back in the bed.

                He starts to thrust into me at a much faster pace than last night, and I close my eyes and moan into his shoulder. I twist one of my hands in his hair, raking my fingernails down his back as he pumps into me, biting into my shoulder, tormenting me with his teeth.

                “Tori, fuck,” he says, his breathing labored as he thrusts his hips into mine.

                “Faster,” I hiss in his ear. I nip down on his earlobe before brushing it with my tongue. “Faster, fuck, faster.” He picks up speed a little bit, and I move my hips up into his, trying to quicken his rhythm. I center myself, letting his chin press into my forehead, as I continue to throw myself against him. I’m considering using green magic to boost my strength and stamina, but that could be held off for another time. For now, I just wanted us to get used to each other, no magic involved.

                I grit my teeth and continue to push myself. I can feel the sweat running down his face, and I quickly reach up and capture his bottom lip between both of mine, before I pull away again. “Faster,” I pant, and he lets out a grunt as if to signal that he can only go so fast. Regardless, it feels like he is going faster or at least pushing himself deeper into me, and I can feel myself start to unwind around him.

                “ _Fuck!”_ I’m not even aware of what I’m doing anymore. My hands are in his hair, raking across his back, rubbing his upper arms, all in one steady movement. I can feel the salty taste of his skin between my teeth, across my lips, and on my tongue. I let out in a high-pitched gasp that sounds so very unlike me as I feel myself starting to give.

                “Bloody-“ he pants, and I can feel him tensing, still inside of me as I come around him. He collapses on top of me, his face buried in my neck, both of us breathing heavily. He shifts over slightly, putting his hand flat on my stomach, and I can feel his hot breath on the side of my face.

                “Better?” he asks. He still sounds winded.

                “Better,” I confirm. I close my eyes and just relish the tingling sensation flooding through my body.

                He lets out a small chuckle and I return it as I look up into his face. He looks boyish all of a sudden, younger, especially with his hair unkempt and sticking out in weird places. I let my eyes travel down his body, especially to the raw purple welt where I had given him a massive hickey. I gingerly reach up and brush it with the very edge of my fingertips. “You got a little something here.”

                “So do you.” I look down at my breast, see a red patch of skin, and quickly look back up before I can see the real extent of it. I’ve never had a hickey before, and I’m not quite sure how to feel about it, especially on my breast.

                “Let me fix that for you.” I reach up again to heal it with a dose of green magic, but he grabs my wrist, quite roughly too, with one hand. I must have flinched, as he relaxes his grip on me. He guides my hand to his lips, kissing the pad of my fingertips gently.

                “Don’t.” 

                I snicker. “You want to show that off to all your students over summer school?”

                “We have two weeks yet,” he says casually. “Besides, I have a feeling that that one isn’t the last one I’ll get from you this week.”

                “Is that a fact?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. He just smiles at me, tracing one finger down the curve of my cheek. “What?”

                “You are really very beautiful,” he whispers, almost as if he’s not aware that he’s talking out loud. I just blush and move a little closer to him, offering up my lips to his. He kisses me softly, brushing my hair out of my face. We lie together for a while, our limbs intertwined. For once, my head isn’t crowded with thoughts. If anything, I’m having trouble thinking anything at all.

                For the first time in a long time, I feel relaxed. At ease. Safe. I close my eyes and drift off into another short, happy snooze.


	3. Chapter 3

                “Ready?”

                “Uh-huh.”

                He pulls me into his lap and I groan into his ear as he pushes into me. I wrap my legs around his waist, putting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He moves into me slowly, hands on either side of my waist. “Is this good?”

                “No.” He looks up sharply as I push him backwards, thrusting my hips up to push my legs underneath me in one smooth motion. _It actually worked_. I’m straddling him now, legs on either side of him, while he lies back on the bed. I try to keep up the pace, but it’s a bit awkward, and I can’t go quite as fast as we were going before, but I try to keep a constant rhythm going. He’s patient with me, one hand cupping my right breast while the other trails up and down my side.

                “Is this good?” I ask. He nods, but I want to go faster. I adjust the tilt of my hips a little bit and grab both of his hands in mine, pinning them to the bed. Our fingers locked, I push my weight into my hands so that I can go faster. Dipping my head down, I close my eyes and focus on the sensation, focus on keeping a constant rhythm, grinding my hips in circles.

                It elicits a groan of pleasure in response and I want to reach up and kiss him, but I don’t think I really can in this position. For some reason, I am suddenly shy. I don’t know why, and I really shouldn’t be: this is about the fifth time we’ve tried something new in three days. I’m not exactly worried about looking like an idiot in front of him, there had been plenty of times when I had done that already, but I still felt this subconscious need to prove myself regardless. Suddenly I felt like I did when I first entered school as a freshman. Him, the unpleasable teacher, and me, desperately trying to prove myself and earn the gold star, despite my total lack of knowledge or experience. At least in this regard, we’re learning together.

                “Oh fuck, Tori.” He grabs me roughly as he spills himself inside of me and I stop moving, waiting for his signal. Slowly he breathes out and sighs, and I carefully adjust myself off of him.

                “Mmm.” I reach up and kiss him softly now, and he returns it, but I want more. I run my fingertips across his cheek, urging him into me, but instead he just relaxes.

                “Sensitive,” he warns.

                “Yeah, yeah,” I say as I rub the end of my nose against his. I curl myself around his arm. “Did I do good?”

                “Well,” he says, closing his eyes.

                “Well?” I repeat. “Well, what?”

                “Did I do _well_ ,” he corrects me, and I smack his cheek lightly.

                “Oh yes, thank you for that grammar lesson, Professor,” I whisper in his ear before giving it a playful nip. He just chuckles.

                “We’re going to have to slow down,” he says. “I think you are quickly becoming insatiable.”

                “Me?” I ask. My face is turning scarlet. “I’m not the one who initiated this morning. That was you.”

                “You were the one who was grinding on me and moaning all through the night,” he says.

                “Well, you were touching me.” I look away. “I couldn’t help myself.”

                He murmurs something as he starts to kiss my neck. “-look at you. I haven’t gotten any work done.”

                “We’re on break; you’re not supposed to be getting any work done.” I push his face away playfully. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this is actually healthy, for both of us. You haven’t had any real physical contact with anyone for over a decade, and I’m…”

                “A hormonal teenage girl?” he raises an eyebrow.

                “Insatiable,” I smirk at him as I bend down to kiss him again. Instead he just rolls over, trapping me beneath him as he kisses me. I kiss him softly, playfully, enjoying the natural rhythm we seem to have developed each other.

                The physical intimacy that we had finally developed between us had been hard-earned. We only shared a first kiss a year ago, and since that time so much had happened. Over the course of the year, our relationship had been tested again and again after Damien wiped my memories of us, but Hieronymous never stopped protecting me or caring for me, even when I couldn’t remember the bond we shared. He never gave up on me, and in the end I almost died for him. No, this intimacy was hard-fought, but it was ever so worth it.

                “We should take a shower,” he says at length, rolling off of me.

                “We?” I ask, eyebrows raised. “Okay, I mean-“

                “I mean _I_ should take a shower,” he says. “And then you should. We should both shower. Separately.” I love when he gets flustered. I rarely ever see it happen, and it’s a moment to cherish when it does.

                “Separately?” I echo. “After we’ve just done all of that?”

                “You’re very…” He glances at me, naked, lying on his bed, and he has to look away from me. “…distracting.”

                I pout at him and stretch out the length of the bed, sliding towards him slightly on my stomach. He wets his lower lip with his tongue and looks away again. He’s still soft, but that’s not going to last much longer if I keep taunting him.

                “Thank you for proving my point,” he says after a minute. “I was thinking after, we could take a walk of the grounds. It’s been three days and we haven’t stepped foot outdoors.”

                “A walk?” I echo. “You mean, on the trails?” I hadn’t been on the trails since I found out it was the place where Damien attacked me and wiped my memories. And I only had very recently been back to the gym, once, where Damien almost killed me. It wasn’t as unnerving and uncomfortable as I expected it to be, but it still wasn’t a place I would willingly go any time soon.

                “If you’re up for it,” he says, smirking at me. _What, did he think all the sex we had recently would just erase all of the bad stuff that happened to me?_ Stepping outside was dangerous. Bad things could happen. I think I’d rather-

                “Can’t we just stay here and have sex all day?” I call after him. In response, he shuts the bathroom door firmly behind him. I sit up and huff, crossing my arms across my chest. Looks like shower sex would have to wait for another day.

                After we are both showered and dressed, we walk around the trails. There are still a fair amount of people on campus, but for the most part the trails were mostly deserted, and we were undisturbed as we walked slowly through the trails, surrounded on either side by thick, green foliage.

                “How are you doing?” he asks at length.

                “Fine,” I shrug. “I mean, I know nothing’s going to happen to me. It’s broad daylight and you’re standing right here.”

                “And if I wasn’t?” he asks.

                “Then,” I hesitate. “Then I wouldn’t be walking through the trails. I would just take the main pathway if I ever needed to get to campus.”

                “True, but the trails do cut down your walk by at least a quarter of a mile,” he says. “Which can be beneficial, especially since I know how long it takes you to wake up in the morning.”

                I snort. “I don’t mind taking the long way. It’s good exercise.”

                To be honest, I don’t really want to talk about this. I want to leave it all in the past where it belongs. Right now, I just want to be curled up with Hieronymous in bed, reading or writing or enjoying the many other physical activities we could be doing.

                “You seem uncomfortable,” he notices, and I let out a long sigh. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how ridiculously attentive he is to my behavior; whether it’s the way I hold myself, or how long it takes me to answer a question.

                “Well, I just don’t understand the point of this,” I sigh, either unable or unwilling to hide the edge in my voice. “Damien’s gone and he’s not coming back. I’ll get over it sooner or later. I don’t know what’s the point in trying to make me get over it sooner.”

                He looks at me, almost surprised. “It was merely a suggestion on my part. I simply figured after spending so much time indoors that you perhaps wanted to go outside. I know how _restless_ you can get.”

                “Yeah, but-“ I shrug. He had a point. He suggested it, and I went along with it. I never told him ‘no’ at any time. “I don’t know. This doesn’t really seem like a challenge to me. Maybe going through here at night and alone would be a better test of my bravery.”

                “The fact that you are willing to come here, or to the gym, at all is a testament to your bravery,” he says. For some reason, this rubs me the wrong way.

                “Yeah, but why?” I ask. He arches an eyebrow and I rephrase the question. “Am I a brave person?”

                He smiles to himself. “Do you even have to ask?”

                “Yes,” I insist.

                “Then yes,” he says. “You are.”

                “Okay, but why?” I argue. “What have I done that’s ever so brave?” He opens his mouth to speak, but I keep going. “Like, no, I mean it. Think about it. What’s the bravest thing I’ve ever done? Not die? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a testament to my endurance for pain than it is bravery. When I jumped out the window and teleported to the beach? Because the more I think that over, the more I think that was downright stupid.”

                He chuckles. “I’ve never been inclined to believe that either of those events were your bravest moments, although I can wholeheartedly agree that the latter was by far the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen you do. I’m surprised you managed to even teleport that far.”

                “Well, I have an excellent Professor for blue magic,” I say seriously, and we both laugh. “But seriously though, if I’m such a brave person, as you say, what is the bravest thing I’ve ever done?”

                He pauses for a moment, and a smile touches his lips, as if he’s recalling a happy memory. “The night of the May Day ball,” he says quietly.

                “The night-?”

                “Last year,” he continues. “The night of the May Day ball your freshman year when you asked me to kiss you.” My cheeks flush and I have to look away. “You were so very bashful,” he goes on. “I had told you that my actions had fostered an inappropriate relationship between us, but you didn’t care. You knew what you wanted and you went ahead and asked for it anyway, even though you had every reason to believe that you would be rejected.”

                I can feel my cheeks growing hot. “But you still kissed me.”

                He shakes his head. “Unfortunately my affections for you had been growing steadily. I was determined to end things there, but it seems I was unable to deny such a request. You can be quite _persuasive_ when you want to be, with all of your little speeches.”

                “I’m pretty sure that’s my best trait,” I say with a smirk as I reach out and take his hand. “And see? Things didn’t end up so badly after all, did they?”

                He sighs. “Things haven’t ended yet though, have they?”

                “Nope,” I say, just as confidently. “And they’re not going to. Because if my best trait is my speech-making, then my second best trait is my stubbornness.” I smile at him. “I’m not going anywhere. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

                He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh, squeezing my hand just a little bit tighter. “And I am bound to you, Mrs. Grabiner.”

                I bite my lip as I feel desire igniting like a spark deep within me. “Can we go back to the room now?”

                He just smirks in my direction. “See? Insatiable.”


	4. Chapter 4

                When I wake up that Saturday morning, Hieronymous isn’t in bed. I roll over at the clock and see that it’s 10:37 AM. At first I’m concerned, but I quickly realize that it’s Saturday, and he probably went off to do stuff in the mail room. Last summer I had helped out; was I supposed to this year? Especially since I wasn’t living in the dorms any longer? I didn’t know the answer, and make a mental note to ask him when he got back.

                I sit up and stretch. It’s the first time I’ve had really any alone time to myself the whole week. Not that I’m complaining after being away from him for so long, but I feel sore everywhere. And if my young, limber body feels sore, then his must be even more so. I could picture him right now, reading in a corner of the library, or some other dark and dusty portion of the school where no one else was around. After living by himself for twelve years, it must be strange for him to suddenly share his room with someone, even if that someone is his wife.

                I decide it’s best to give each other some space this weekend and get dressed so I can go off to see Ellen. We’re still on a break from classes, and so I can wear whatever I want. I throw on a tee shirt and jeans with my sneakers, deciding to leave my hoodie back here. As I head outside, I realize that that was probably a smart idea. It’s a lot warmer than it usually is for May, and the sun shining through the trees only makes it seem hotter.

                I decide to avoid the trails and follow the regular pathways over to the dorm. Not that I’m as afraid of the trails in broad daylight, but the campus is less busy than it would otherwise be and I don’t want to take any chances. I walk into Horse Hall, go over to our old door, and knock. It feels strange knocking on a door to a room I used to call mine, but it isn’t mine anymore. I lived with Hieronymous now, and I had absolutely no complaints about that.

                “Virginia?” I ask in surprise as she opens up the door.

                “Who else were you expecting?” Virginia asks playfully as she sees me. “Come on in.” It looks like she’s just woken up, as she’s still in her pajamas and her hair is a mess. Ellen is sitting on her bed, half-dressed, reading a book.

                “Hey there,” I say to her as she looks up.

                “Hey Tori,” she replies. “What are you doing back here? Things okay?”

                “Yeah,” I shrug. “I just wanted to see if you guys wanted to hang out.”

                “Hang out?” Virginia asks, sitting back down on her bed. I realize there’s nowhere else to sit and so I make my way over to the edge of my old bed. It feels weird, and I am very not comfortable, but I try not to let it show. “We figured you and Grabby would be having your own personal honeymoon until class started up again.”

                “We, uh,” I let my voice drop off as my cheeks flush. “I mean, honeymoons pretty much imply going away somewhere, right? We just kind of wanted to be alone. With each other.”

                Ellen sets down her book as they both stare at me. “You didn’t,” Virginia says. I open my mouth then shut it again, not looking at her.

                “Really?” Ellen asks. “Like you both, really?”

                “May Day magic,” I say lightly, and they both collapse into a fit of giggles. I laugh too, burying my face in my hands. “It’s not a big deal.”

                “It’s totally a big deal,” Virginia says. “You really did it. With a teacher. With _Grabby_.”

                “Was he nice, at least?” Ellen asks.

                I hesitate. I don’t know how much to share with them, but all last year I kept keeping secrets from them. I didn’t want to do that this year. And besides, I had literally no one else to talk to about it. They could keep this a secret. “It was his first time too,” I say quietly.

                “Well, that’s not a surprise,” Virginia says dismissively. “But was it good?”

                “Yeah,” I say quietly. “He was very gentle with me.” They wait for me to continue. “At least, the first time.”

                “Tori,” Virginia laughs. Ellen’s face turned a bright shade of red. “Any other details you want to share with us?”

                “No,” I shake my head quickly. Ellen silent looks grateful. “No he would probably kill me if I said anymore. But just um, it was good, and he’s nice to me, and so that’s all that’s important, right?”

                “Absolutely,” Virginia agrees. “Because if he isn’t, he knows that we’ll give him hell. Right, Ellen?”

                “Of course,” Ellen says. I smile at both of them.

                “Okay, enough about me and Grabby,” I say. “What are you still doing here, Virginia? I thought you’d be back at home by now.”

                “Staying another week,” Virginia shrugs. “A lot of people are still hanging out yet. Only the wildseeds really go home right after May Day. The rest of us just kind of stick around and party it up for a while.”

                “Party it up?” I ask.

                “There’s going to be a bonfire tonight,” she says. “You should totally come.”

                “That sounds like fun,” I say. “I mean, Grabby probably won’t want to go, but we could use a break from each other, if you know what I mean.” They laugh again and my face goes red. “So not what I meant,” I huff. “I just mean that we have spent every minute of every day together for an entire week. It gets to be a little much, especially since he’s not used to being around anyone for that long, even me.”

                “Sure, whatever you say,” Virginia says as she winks at me.

                We hang out for a while, just talking about different things, and I follow them to the cafeteria for a yummy taco lunch. Afterwards, I split with them to head back towards Hieronymous’ room, hoping that he may be back so I can tell him about the bonfire tonight. But as I open the door, I can see that nothing’s changed. Nothing’s moved. He still hasn’t been back yet.

                I let out a little grunt as I close the door behind me and jump on the bed, rolling over. _Nothing to do, nothing to do, nothing to do_. The truth was that I could read, or write in my diary, but I was too distracted right now. Where was Hieronymous? Hosting detention? Who would even have detention in between classes? I wish he left me some sort of note or something to tell me where he was going. For a moment I realize that I am getting concerned about him, and quickly push it away. This was Hieronymous. There was nothing to be concerned about. He probably just shut himself in his office or somewhere and was appreciating all the quiet time he had to himself.

                I take advantage of all the free time I suddenly have in order to write in my diary. After all, I hadn’t updated it since before the May Day ball, and there was so much to update. The worst part was, though, that I didn’t know how to describe any of it. Considering how Professor Potsdam had read my last diary, I didn’t want to write anything too graphic or detailed, but at the same time, what if I lost my memories again and this was the only way to remember? I try to think of a list of euphemisms to perplex any casual reader that may come across it, but all of them sound too childish and obvious. Hieronymous showed me his wand? _Yeah, no_.

                In the end, I decide to just write whatever comes to mind and not worry about what Hieronymous or Professor Potsdam would think if they ever read it. Hieronymous, especially, knew better than to invade my privacy after last time, but it didn’t seem like Potsdam suffered any sort of moral quandary stealing it from my room and leafing through it. At least the last one read more along the lines of the ramblings of a silly school girl. This one was a bit darker, a bit more mature, with more adult themes.

                By the time I roll over to check the clock, I realize that it’s already 7:30 PM. _He’s still not back yet?_ He better be actually really busy. _Maybe preparing for summer classes?_ I huff as I throw on my hoodie and make my way down to the bonfire. It’s just getting dark, and people are setting up with marshmallows and smores. I walk around the outskirts of the bonfire until I see Donald, and quickly make my way over to him.

                “Heya,” I say quickly.

                “Oh hey,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around all week, what have you been doing?”

                “Oh, you know, just stuff,” I say casually. It’s one thing to talk to Virginia and Ellen about things with Grabby, but Donald is another entity entirely. “So how did you get detention today?”

                “Detention?” Donald looks surprised. “I didn’t get detention today, and I don’t think anyone else did either. We’re on break, no one really cares enough to give us detention for anything.”

                “Oh,” I look away. If he wasn’t hosting detention, then what had he been doing all day? Just reading? I mean, it was like him, but…

                “Trouble in paradise?” Donald asks.

                “No,” I say quickly. “No, he was gone from the time I woke up this morning so I figured he was just hosting detention, that’s all.”

                “Shhh, take this,” Virginia sneaks up behind me and discretely gives me two bags of marshmallows. “Stuff these in your hoodie. The graduating seniors are taking most of them. If you want smores, it’s every man for himself.”

                I giggle as I watch her run around to try to grab some chocolate, and see Ellen and Donald casually clasp hands out of the corner of my eye. _Interesting_. I mean, I knew they were still dating, but it was one of those things I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around. Maybe it was because their love affair was something simple and uncomplicated. Mine was passionate, but dramatic and stressful were definitely two adjectives that I would put high on the list.

                Virginia is able to steal a few crackers and a few bars of chocolate and we sit around for the fire for a while, eating, laughing, roasting marshmallows, swapping stories, and watching the seniors dance and spin fire like they had the night of the Thunder Dance. It’s pretty to watch, and I let the time slip away from me. My watch says it’s about 11:15 PM when I decide to make my exit. My stomach is full of marshmallows anyway, and I don’t want Hieronymous to worry about me if he gets back and I’m not there.

                But when I get back to the room, he’s still not back yet either. “Hieronymous,” I whisper. I pull off my hoodie, and like usual, my stone pendant comes up and almost hits me in the face. _The stone._ He had given me that pendant to link our heartbeats. He carried a stone that let me feel his heartbeat, and I carried an identical dark blue stone that let me feel his. I cup it in both hands, but feel nothing.

                No, of course I felt nothing. He said you had to think pleasant thoughts for it to work. _Pleasant_. I curl up at the edge of the bed, struggling out of my sneakers with the balls of my feet. How was I able to think pleasant thoughts right now?

 _“Hieronymous?”_ I reach out into the void and wait. My hand is clenched around the stone so tightly I can feel my knuckles shaking. “ _Hieronymous, are you there? You’re starting to freak me out now. I know you’re probably busy reading, or something, but it’s late. Can you please come home? Please?”_

 _He’s probably laughing at me right now_ , I think. _We’ve spent an entire week together and now he thinks I can’t go one day without him._ I take a few deep breaths, but I still can’t feel his heartbeat. What if something happened? Something happened to me, and that was on school grounds, although, granted, that was at night in the middle of summer. He hadn’t been back all day, and there were plenty of people who haven’t left yet.

                “ _Hieronymous_?” I continue calling out into the void, listening, and waiting, but no answers come, and sleep eventually drags me down into an uneasy rest.


	5. Chapter 5

                My eyes fly open, and for a moment, I’m totally disoriented. I sit up and realize that I’m slumped over the end of the bed. Hieronymous still isn’t here. _Where is-?_

                I jump as I hear a banging on the door, and I quickly rush over to it, almost tripping over my sneakers. Professor Potsdam is standing outside, and she’s not meeting my eyes.

                “Where is he? Is he okay?” I ask. The words tumble out of me in a rush.

                “Hieronymous is fine, dear,” she says. “He just got called away on business, is all. Some matter with his father. He wants you to know that he’ll be returning home in a few days-“

                “You’re lying.” It’s automatic. I don’t even register the words. “If he was fine, he would have let me know.”

                “Something came up,” she continues. “It was all rather sudden-“

                I hold up the necklace around my chest. “I can’t feel his heart beat.” My voice is loud, but I’m not yelling, at least not yet. “Tell me what has happened. Now.”

                She stares me down for a moment, trying to decide if it’s worth it to try to keep me in check. “You’re developing his temper,” she observes. “Better curb that.”

                “Please,” I say desperately. I can feel my eyes brimming with tears. “Please tell me what happened.”

                She sighs and glances around her. “Hieronymous was playing around with some advanced magics. A spell went wrong; there was an accident.”

                I stare at her. “With the Manus? Again?” _He better not be dead because if he comes home and I find out that he’s had to marry someone else, I will kill him myself._

                “A different kind of spell,” she says. “It kind of blew up in his face, in the literal sense.” I gasp and put both of my hands over my mouth. “But he’s fine, he’s going to be fine.”

                A million questions run through my mind right now. A spell? What kind of spell? Did it have anything to do with me? Why didn’t he tell me what he was doing? Why didn’t he reach out to me? “Take me to him. Please.”

                She shakes her head. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, dear.”

                “I-“ The word ‘blew up’ still is hanging in my head. “He is okay, right? Like he’s going to be okay?”

                “We hope so,” she responds sweetly.

                “Hope so?” I ask. “First it was he’ll be home in a few days and now it’s we _hope_ he’ll be okay?”

                “I understand you’re upset,” she says. “But understand he is being well cared for. He is conscious; I have just spoken to him not just an hour ago.”

                “Then take me to him,” I say again. “Please, I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.”

                She sighs and looks away. “I did ask if it would be okay to see you. Thought it might cheer him up a bit. He was against it.”

                I blink at her. “What? What are you trying to say?”

                “He didn’t want to see you,” she repeats more clearly. “He was very firm. He did not want to see you.”

                “I-“ Suddenly I snort and a burst of laughter bubbles out of my chest, and I can feel tears streaming down my cheeks. He didn’t want to see me? Had I done something wrong? I thought everything was fine. We had been getting along, we had been ribbing each other, sure, but that was our _thing_ , right? Why did-? “It’s because he’s hurt bad, right?” I ask. “He doesn’t want me to see him all burned-up and stuff, right?”

                “All burned up,” she laughs and shakes her head. I literally don’t understand. She just said that he got blown up in the literal sense. Was there another form of literally blowing up that I wasn’t aware of?

                “Can-can you tell him…” My voice trails off. Tell him what? To feel better? I don’t even know what’s happened. That I want to see him? That I love him? He _knows_ all that stuff already. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

                “Hopefully,” she sighs. “Tori, dear, you should get some rest though. You look a fright. You look like you haven’t slept all night.”

                “There might be a reason for that,” I reply dryly.

                “Again, you are sounding an awfully lot like him,” she replies. “I was hoping you would assimilate some of his more positive qualities.”

                “Just-“ I pause, trying to think of the most ‘me’ thing to say. “Tell him not to die? Because if he does I’ll kill him myself.”

                She smiles at me. “Of course, dear.” She turns to go.

                “And please, let me know,” I say. “Like, updates would be nice.”

                But she doesn’t answer. Instead, she just teleports away into the crisp morning air. I turn around and head back inside, shutting the door behind me. He didn’t want to see me. I try to think about it rationally. He’s weak, and he’s hurt, and he doesn’t want to be vulnerable around me. But at the same time, I’m his wife. If he’s dying, shouldn’t I be at his bedside? Shouldn’t I be the one taking care of him?

                I don’t sit back down on the bed. I can’t. Instead I sit down on the floor and try to think, but no thoughts come. He almost died, and now he didn’t want me to see him? Did I do something wrong or was he hurt so badly he didn’t want me to see him in that condition? Those were the only two options, and neither was appealing to me right now. I almost considered pulling his alcohol out of storage, but if Potsdam did come back with more news, it was probably better that I answer the door sober.

                I take a shower, because why the hell not? I don’t want to leave the room in case Potsdam comes with more news. I don’t really want to leave the room period. Part of me wants to run through the school trying to find the place where he got hurt to assess the damage, but if he was fooling around with advanced magics, he probably learned his lesson the first time and did it in place where no students were watching. Heck, there were probably enchantments to keep students out. I would get nowhere fast.

                And so I take a shower and sit in the tub until the water runs cold before getting out. All it takes is a simple spell to dry my hair, but I can’t even be bothered to do that right now. Instead I pull on sweatpants and a sweatshirt and sit right back down on the floor, my head resting against the back of the bed.

                I don’t know, should I cry? Will crying help? It won’t help him, but would it make me feel better? I try to squint, but no tears are coming right now. I even let out a little sniff to help try to get it going, but I have no tears to shed. Because, if I have to face the truth, I’m not upset. I’m angry. I’m angry that he won’t let me see him. I’m angry because something happened and I didn’t know. Again, things were happening, danger was brewing, and I was the last in the know.

                Suddenly I’m hit with a dreadful thought. _Was he attacked?_ I mean, sure Potsdam said there had been an accident, but she was swinging so wildly right and left between her stories, I don’t know if I can really believe her. Was the reason he didn’t want me to come see him is because he thought I would be in danger too? Was he trying to protect me?

                I hear a knock on the door and I’m on my feet in an instant. I hope the door wide to expect Professor Potsdam, maybe even Hieronymous in my highest of hopes, but instead it’s my old roommates. Plus Donald. And they’re all carrying large black sleeping bags.

                “Professor Potsdam said you could use some company,” Ellen says quietly.

                I hesitate. This is Professor Grabiner’s room, not mine. Although, if something happened to him, would it still be my room? Would I even want to stay here? “Come in,” I say at last. If Grabby is upset about it later, he’ll just have to deal. I’m not exactly pleased with the situation myself right now. “Make yourselves at home, but not too at home. And the bed is off limits.”

                They shuffle into the room and throw their sleeping bags down on the floor. “So, this is Grabby’s room, huh?” Virginia asks. I can tell what she’s trying to do, make small talk, distract me from the situation at hand.

                “Yeah.” I sit on the edge of the bed, and they take a seat on their respective sleeping bags. “I mean, I guess it’s technically our room, but it’s always kind of felt more like his room.”

                “So, you did it in that bed?” Virginia asks. I can tell she’s trying to be funny, but nothing’s funny to me right now.

                “And that floor,” I reply dryly. Virginia and Ellen both glance quickly down at the floor, but Donald is just gazing impassively at everything around him.

                “Are you doing okay?” Ellen asks eventually. I shrug.

                “Did Professor Potsdam tell you guys what was going on?” I ask, hoping for more information.

                “Just that it might be a few days until Professor Grabiner returned,” Virginia says. “And that you might need some cheering up. Did something happen?”

                “I don’t know.” I lie out the length of the bed, so I’m more or less talking to the comforter. “First she told me he was on a business trip. I called bullshit. Then she said something blew up in his face, but I’m thinking he was maybe attacked.”

                “Attacked?” Donald asks. “Why do you think that?”

                I pause for a moment and shut my eyes. “She told me he didn’t want to see me.”

                “Did you have a fight?” Virginia asks. I barely move my head to indicate no.

                “Things were fine,” I mumble. “That’s why I think he was attacked. He’s laying low in order to protect me.”

                “I mean, that could make sense,” Ellen says. We all turn to look at her. “Well, especially if Tori’s in danger too, it would explain why Professor Potsdam wanted all three of us to stay here with her until he got back.”

                “I guess,” Donald shrugs.

                “Does that mean we’re all in danger too?” she asks.

                “If it makes you feel any better, I’m probably the main target,” I tell her flatly. “So if they kill me, you’re probably in the clear.”

                “That’s cheery,” Donald says lightly. “Have you eaten anything all day?”

                “No.”

                “Then we should get you down to the cafeteria and-“

                “Not leaving this room.” I can hear someone about to argue with me, so I sit up. “Not leaving this room. What do you want?”

                “Want?” Virginia asks.

                “To eat,” I say, as if this is painstakingly obvious. “Teacher’s get their food delivered.”

                “Seriously?” Virginia and Donald ask at the same time.

                “Two pepperoni pizzas?” Donald asks. I turn to Virginia and Ellen and they both just shrug.

                “Coming right up.” I walk over to Hieronymous’ desk and clear some papers off of an unassuming yellow notepad in the corner. _How did this work again?_ Holding out the tip of my finger, I carefully write the words, “2 pepperoni pizzas” and then follow it up with a –H for good measure. The words slowly sink into the paper and disappear.

                “Ta-da,” I say flatly as I crawl back onto the bed.

                Donald tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Where’s the pizza?”

                “Give it a minute,” I murmur. “Or twenty.”

                “Twenty?” Virginia asks.

                “Okay, it’s magic delivery service but I’m pretty sure they still need to cook it,” I murmur.

                “Cheer up, he’ll be okay,” Ellen offers.

                “Yeah, we brought playing cards,” Virginia says.

                “Magic playing cards,” Donald adds.

                “Magic playing cards?” I ask.

                “Well, they’re more like regular playing cards, but the pictures on the card move.”

                I can’t even fake enthusiasm. “Lame,” I say, plopping my head back down.

                “I know you’re upset-“ Ellen starts.

                “You know what I thought the worst part about getting married to Hieronymous was?” I ask no one in particular. “That I would be divorced at 18. I thought, hey, what could be worse than that? But you know what’s worse? Being _widowed_ at 18.”

                “You’re not 18 just yet,” Virginia reminds me. “Plenty of time for him to live through this and do something stupider in the future.” Ellen smacks her arm, and Virginia shoots her a look. “But moping doesn’t change anything, right?”

                “I don’t know,” I shrug. “When Violet died he packed his bags and left England and completely avoided human contact for twelve years.”

                “Who’s Violet?” Donald asks.

                “His ex,” Virginia says quickly. “She died on the other side.”

                “Ouch,” Donald wrinkles up his face. “Bad?”

                “Way bad.”

                I clear my throat, and they both turn to look at me. “I would prefer if we didn’t talk about that.”

                “Why? Jealous?” Donald asks. I can tell he’s teasing, but Virginia and Ellen both shoot him a look.

                “I would just like to remind you that he spent twelve years mourning her. Twelve. Years. And it probably would have been longer if we didn’t accidently get married. So if I do sound jealous, please just remember what a huge impact she had and probably still continues to have on his life.”

                “Sorry,” Donald says quickly, turning away.

                “It’s fine.” For once tonight, I sound more like myself. “Besides, it’s probably best not to talk ill of her, especially here in his safe space. Something may jump out of the walls and eat you up.”

                “Nuh-uh,” Donald says, but I can tell his lighthearted expression is only for my benefit.

                “So is it nice living here?” Ellen asks. “Do you like it?”

                “I mean, it’s nice,” I shrug. “Got my own bathroom. I even have my own drawer in his dresser.”

                “Fancy,” Donald says.

                “Otherwise, yeah,” I shrug. “His desk. His bookcase. His closet’s back there. There’s a lot of personal stuff in there, I don’t go in it unless he asks me to get him something.”

                “Still a nice room,” Ellen says, and I shrug.

                Suddenly there’s a knock on the door and Virginia rushes to open it. “Pizza time?” She looks out and then looks down. She bends down to pick something up and comes back carrying two white unmarked cardboard boxes in each hand.

                “Smells good,” Donald says appreciatively.

                “But I didn’t see anyone,” Virginia says. “Who dropped these off?”

                “Magic,” I tease her, and she rolls her eyes.

                 We sit around and eat pizza for a while. They kept telling me jokes and stories and kept asking my opinion on things to try to keep me involved. I appreciated it, I really did, but I couldn’t help but wish it wasn’t necessary. I should be cuddled up to him tonight, gently teasing him about something silly that he did or said, instead of listening to the obnoxiously loud sound of Donald snoring.

                When all of them eventually go to sleep for the night, I creep out of bed and pull out one of his pajama pants from his dresser. He has a few night shirts, but I’ve never seen him wear any, not around me, at least. _Maybe he just likes the look on my face whenever I see him shirtless._

I force a small smile to my face, but the realization that I’m trying too hard to cheer _myself_ up only makes it worse. I wrap his pajama pants in a bundle and hold it to my chest as I stare out at the moonlight streaming in through the window.

                “ _Hieronymous? If you can hear me…please be okay.”_


	6. Chapter 6

                I think it’s day four now that Hieronymous hasn’t been back, and I’m just about at the end of my rope with worry. Ellen, Virginia and Donald have stayed with me the entire time, well, most of the time, occasionally excusing themselves to go back to their dorms to grab fresh clothes or to take a shower. Bathroom trips were fine, but I agreed that it would be more than a little strange from them to be using Grabby’s shower. Besides, I took the time they were gone to take a shower myself. If and when Hieronymous came back, I wanted to be clean. I didn’t want it to look like I was literally putting myself through hell and back, even if that’s what it felt like on the inside.

                For some reason, I feel mopier today than I had been the rest of the week. I had started going crazy with the lack of news. I had told Virginia to go to Professor Potsdam’s office to see if there was any news of Hieronymous, but according to her, she wasn’t there. Was that a good sign? Was that a bad sign? Was she with him now? I had so many questions and literally no answers. Was he doing okay? Why didn’t he try to contact me? Was he mad at me? Was he in danger? Did I do something wrong?

                “Want the last of the fries?” Virginia asks.

                “What?”

                “The fries.” She points down to a plate of Cajun-spiced french fries that were sitting on the floor between us. Turns out, teachers could ask for pretty much anything from the kitchen, and it would be delivered to their door. We didn’t try to ask for anything like lobster or steak though. Instead, we went with the old student classics: wings, fries, pizza, chocolate, and junk food. I wasn’t sure exactly how it worked, whether the teacher’s had a running tab or not and he would have to pay for all of this later, but right now that was far from my concern. Maybe if he was here, I wouldn’t have had to order about a dozen pizzas to feed me and my friends and stress eat over the course of the past four days.

                “Take them,” I say carelessly. We were all sitting around playing Blackjack, and honestly the game was just getting far too repetitive for me. Of course, we had tried playing other games, like poker, Uno, and Go Fish, but Ellen kept asking to come back to Blackjack for some reason. She said it was the only game she was really good at, and I wasn’t really focused to begin with.

                “Hit me,” Donald says. She puts down a Jack, and he sighs in dismay. “This game sucks.”               

                “Well, that’s because you keep hitting,” Ellen tells him. “Last time you hit on sixteen.”

                “There’s still a chance I could have gotten a five,” Donald insists.

                “Okay, sure,” Ellen says dismissively. “We’ve been playing this game for a few days and you haven’t won yet, but keep holding out for your lucky break.”

                “You shouldn’t expect anything less of me,” Donald teases. Virginia seems more or less unfazed by their bantering but for some reason it’s too much for me. Seeing Ellen and Donald be downright couply all week, from snuggling up together on the floor of the room to whatever this is, it’s more than I can take. I want Hieronymous here. This was supposed to be our two weeks off to just spend with each other, and although two weeks had at first started to seem like a lot of time, it really wasn’t when I remember that I had no memory that he was my husband for at least a good seven months or so.

                Remembering how close I was to losing him back then reminds me how close I am to losing him now, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed. It’s all too much to take. I’m sick of it, I’m sick of not knowing what is going on. Why hasn’t Potsdam come and told me _anything_ yet? I hear them talking, laughing, joking, like nothing is wrong, like nothing could possibly go wrong, and it’s just too much for me. Literally before Donald tells the punch line of a joke, one of my sobs fills the air and I have to turn away. It’s embarrassing, and it’s stupid, and I hate it.

                “Hey, you okay?” Ellen asks softly.

                “No,” I say, hopping off the end of the bed. I can’t sit here and play cards any longer. I can’t sit here and eat pizza and pretend everything is okay when Hieronymous might be dying. I need to walk and instead end up pacing back and forth in front of the door. I turn to face them. “No, we’ve been here for four days without a word. We haven’t heard anything from him. Potsdam hasn’t said shit. I just want to know if he’s okay.”

                “I’m sure he’s recovering,” Ellen continues, but I don’t want to hear it.

                “I just, I feel like _shit_ right now,” I say. “And that’s the worst part. That’s the worst part, right? Because he could be hurt, and dying, and I can’t see him so I just keep focusing on how shitty I feel. I mean, I’m sitting here shoving my face with fucking pizza and crap food, and he might be _dying._ Dying. While I’m just sitting here, doing nothing. Like, what’s _wrong_ with me?”

                “Um, Tori-“

                “No, just, let me talk,” I close my eyes and let out a breath. “I don’t know what happened. I know Potsdam lied to me about the business trip, obviously, but he got hurt. But how? Was he attacked? Was it an accident? And-“ My voice breaks. “Why doesn’t he want me to see him?” My voice sounds so pleading and miserable, choked with sobs. Ellen and Virginia look down at the floor. Donald just looks past me. “Did I do something wrong? Did he do something wrong? Was he attacked? Is he trying to protect me? Am I in danger?”

                I bend over slightly, holding my head in my hands. “I can’t do this,” I sniff. “All last year I was in danger and no one told me a _fucking_ thing. I could have died so many times and no one would tell me what was going on. And now it’s the same thing again. Did he get his memory wiped? Did he forget me? Is that what happened? Are they worried I’m not going to be able to handle it, is that it? That I’m still just a child, that I’m just a student, so I can’t understand the gravity of what’s going on?”

                “Um, Tori, you should really-“

                “I should what?” I demand. “Go down to Professor Potsdam’s office and demand to see him? Because I should. I don’t know why I haven’t already. I just, I don’t know why. I’m just a selfish, horrible person. I’ve just been sitting here and moping all week when I should have done something. Instead, I’ve been too preoccupied trying to figure out how _I_ should deal with this, what _I_ would do if anything happened to him – I am a miserable, selfish person. Like, what if something really terrible did happen? What if he’s trapped in the Otherworld, and that’s why they won’t let me see him, because they’re worried I’ll be attacked crossing the Spirit Gate?” I can feel rage boiling in me now. “Because if that’s the case, I will go in there, with or without Potsdam’s or anyone’s help. I will fucking OD on white magic and I will kill whoever the fuck I need to in order to rescue him and bring him back safely. I will-”

                “Fortunately, it does not seem that that will be necessary.”

                I blink. I spin around to see Hieronymous standing there, looking like his usual self. Except he doesn’t. He looks tired, exhausted. I don’t know if the others can see it, but he looks pale. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Virginia-“

                “Say no more,” Virginia says quietly. I can hear ruffling behind me as they grab their sleeping bags. He steps aside to let them pass, and shuts the door behind him.

                I don’t move.

                He sighs, and I can tell he’s very tired, but I don’t care right now. I have a quality rage going, and I don’t want to let it go to waste. “What happened?”

                He lets out a breath. “An accident.”

                “An accident?” I cross my arms over my chest. “And that’s why you didn’t want me to see you? Were you playing around with that Manus again? Are you betrothed to someone else now?”

                “That isn’t terribly funny,” he says dryly.

                “I’m not laughing.” It comes out almost like a snarl.

                “Tori, can we talk about this later?” he asks quietly.

                It should be enough that he’s home. It should be enough that he’s safe. It should be enough that he looks more or less okay. But it’s not enough. I really am a terrible, horrible person. “No, we will talk about this now. Why didn’t you want me to see you?”

                He shakes his head. “I need to take a shower.”

                “Talk to me.” Part of me feels like hitting him, but I don’t know how hurt he really is. “Who did this to you?”

                “What?” he spins around to face me, as if he has no idea what I’m talking about.

                “Who did this?” I repeat. “Who attacked you?”

                He shakes his head. “What did she tell you?”

                “Who?”

                “Potsdam.”

                “Three very different versions of events,” I say sharply. “Including one where she mentioned that you had been blown up.”

                “Blown up?” he rubs at his face with one hand. “Well, now at least I can see why you were carrying on the way you were.”

                “Oh, right, because I forgot showing my emotions and talking about how I feel is such a childish, silly thing,” I snap. “I waited for you. You didn’t come back. I waited up all night for you and you didn’t come back.” It’s hard to speak through my tears, but I push through. “I couldn’t feel your heartbeat. At all. And then Potsdam came and was like, ‘Oh he’s just on a business trip, he’s totally fine, oh never mind I lied, he’s been blown up and he’s dying and we don’t know if he’ll live but he doesn’t want to see you.’”

                He sighs and rubs at his face with his free hand again. “I will have a talk with her later. All you need to know right now is that I’m okay. I wasn’t attacked.” He pauses. “And you’re not in any danger either, so you needn’t worry.”

                “Oh, right, because I was so worried about me when you were the one dying,” I snap, immediately flinching at my words. But he’s right. He was dying, and I had been worrying about me. “But maybe I could have worried about you more if I knew what was going on. I’m your wife. Why didn’t you tell me where you were going?”

                “It’s been a difficult past few days,” he says. “If I promise to tell you everything in the morning, will you let me shower and go to sleep now?”

                I don’t know why, but I back down. Suddenly I’m too tired to do this now too. “You have ten minutes to shower or I’m coming in there after you.”

                He forces a smile, but it seems weak. I just let him go into the bathroom without another word. After he shuts the door, I run my hands through my hair. As his wife, I was supposed to give him kindness and courage. Yelling at him and demanding answers wasn’t really a part of that. But he could understand, couldn’t he, why I was so upset? Why wouldn’t he tell me what was going on?

                As he gets out of the bathroom, I watch him closely. He has put on a night shirt and pajama pants. I have never seen him with a night shirt on before. Was he maimed? Hideously scarred? Did he not want me to see anything? Did he think I would run screaming for the hills if he was horribly disfigured? I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst.

                As he comes over to the bed, he spots the wadded up ball of pajama pants. “What are they doing here?” he asks, and I look away.

                “They smelled like you,” I say quietly. I hear him let out a breath as he slides underneath the covers. I stay seated where I am on the other side of the bed.

                He turns his head to look at me, and I just tilt my head slightly so that I can see him. He holds out his arm, like he expects me to snuggle up to him. “Can I?” I ask. He looks surprised and nods.

                I quickly scoot into his embrace. “Can I kiss you?”

                He lets out a little chuckle of laughter. “Yes, Tori, please.”

                Careful not to put too much pressure on his chest, I lean forward, cupping his cheek with my hand as I kiss him. He kisses me back, gently but firmly, running his hands through my hair. As I pull away, his body immediately relaxes. Something about this makes me relax too.

                “Are you okay?” I ask. He nods.

                “Just tired,” he says as he switches off the lights. “We can talk in the morning.”

                “Okay.” I pause. “Hieronymous?”

                “Yes?”  

                “You’re not mad at me, right?” My voice is threatening tears again, and it seems like such a stupid, childish thing to say.

                “No,” he says, and I can tell by his voice that he means it. “No, this had nothing to do with you.”

                “Then why didn’t you want me to see you?” I ask again. I can’t let it go. It’s the one question that has been running rampant in my mind the past few days. I can’t just let it go so easily.

                “Because,” he sighs. “I got hurt. I didn’t want you to see. I didn’t know how you might…react.”

                “React?” I ask blankly.

                “Well considering you were ready to storm into the Otherworld with nothing but your-“

                “Maybe if you had told me what was going on, I wouldn’t have,” I say. “We’re supposed to be a team, remember? We do everything together.”

                He just snorts at this. “Go to sleep, Tori. We’ll talk later.”

                “Okay,” I relent. I rest my head against his arm and wait, but he doesn’t flinch. Slowly I entangle my body with his, but he still doesn’t flinch or pull away, so if he is hurt, it must not be too badly.

                “I love you,” I say quietly.

                “I know.”

                I frown. I know what I need from him right now. I just need to be direct about it. “If you love me back can you please say it? Please?”

                I feel his hot breath on my ear. “I love you.” He lowers his voice. “Mrs. Grabiner.”

                I smile and cuddle into his chest, feeling his warmth against me. He’s back now. He’s okay. So everything is going to be okay now…right?

                I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t. Everything that had happened to me last year showed me that if you’re not ready for the worst case situation, then it would inevitably strike when you least expected it. But this time I was ready. This time, I was prepared, for whatever he had to tell me.


	7. Chapter 7

                I don’t get much sleep that night, and I’m awake before he is. I don’t know what time he’ll get up, but at around 8 AM he is still snoring soundly and so I slip out of bed to use the bathroom. On the way back, I walk over to the pad on his desk and scribble down tea and toast with eggs for breakfast. Thinking better of it, I quickly go back to the note and add in parenthesis, “Please knock quietly.”

                I pull up his desk chair around to his bedside and sit there, stroking his hand. I could just cuddle back into bed with him, but I don’t want to wake him. I also can’t lie in that bed any more than I have over the past few days. After about ten minutes there is a quiet knock on the door and I slip outside to retrieve a pot of tea and a tray of breakfast.

                As I head back inside, I place it on his night stand and sit back down, taking his hand in mine. I close my eyes and rest my head down on the side of the bed, gently brushing the back of his fingers back and forth against my lips. I don’t know how long I lie like that for until I hear him say my name. “Tori?”

                “Mm?” I blink and look up at him.

                “What are you doing?”

                “I, uh,” My eyes drift over to the night stand. “I got you breakfast. And tea.” He raises his eyebrows at me as I pour him a cup. “Kindness and courage, right?”

                “You do seem to take your vows very seriously,” he says reflectively as he takes the cup from me. He sips it thoughtfully, and I wait. “I am sorry. For what I put you through these past few days. I was in and out of it and I didn’t want you to worry.”

                “Please don’t be sorry,” I take his hand in mine, but my voice is softer than usual. It’s strange hearing the fear reflected in my own voice, but I try to disguise it as best I can. “You’re here now. And you’re okay. That’s what’s important.”

                “Tori,” he looks at me seriously. “I am okay. I’m not going to leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

                “Anyone can die, at any time, for any reason,” I tell him. “We both know that.” I take a deep breath. “If you don’t want to tell me what happened, that’s fine. It’s enough for me just knowing that you’re okay.”

                “No it’s not,” he says, and I look down and suppress a laugh.

                “It can be,” I insist. “If that’s what you want.” But I think we both know that it if he doesn’t tell me, things will never be the same between us. How can they be, with him keeping secrets?

                He squeezes my hand and looks away. “The reason why I didn’t want you coming is because I figured you would blame yourself for what happened. I must apologize again, when I told Potsdam not to cause you any unnecessary worry, it seems she drastically misinterpreted the message. Though, to be fair,” he cocks his head to the side. “I was somewhat out of sorts, so now I’m not altogether sure how much of the message was clear.”

                “Do you remember what happened?” I ask nervously.

                “Yes,” he says firmly, and I know he knows what I’m afraid of. “My memory is just fine, Tori.”

                “Just checking,” I mumble.

                “I was experimenting with very advanced magic,” he says. “I was-“ he hesitates. “-trying to perform two separate magics at one time.”

                “Can you do that?” I ask. It had never really occurred to me to even try to wield two different spells at once. I knew some spells could require a combination of two magics, like sleep spells being a combination of white and green magic, but as far as I knew, you could only perform one spell at a time.

                “Hence why I didn’t want to get you involved,” he says. “It’s very advanced magic, and as I so proved, it can be very dangerous.” I wait and he continues. “I had been practicing small things, at first, with some success, but I got overeager. I tried to shield myself and create a blast wave-“

                “And you blew up,” I say.

                “Boom,” he murmurs sarcastically under his breath. “Obviously I was badly burned, and you didn’t need to see any of that. Plus I knew how you’d react-“ he glances aside at me. “-and I didn’t really want to deal with it right then.”

                I let out a snort. “Please have some faith in me.”

                “Oh?” he asks. “And what do you want to say, right now?”

                “I want to ask why,” I say. “Why do you need to do all this advanced magic stuff? What purpose does it have if you’ve only going to get yourself hurt?”

                He nods, as if he knew this was coming. “I’m going to say something, and I want you to listen, okay?” I pause, mentally bracing myself. “I was in love with Violet,” he says, and I swallow hard but keep my gaze steady. “And after she died, I decided to dedicate my life to stop children from making foolish mistakes. But then I made another one. I was fooling around with things outside of my control, and you got caught in the middle of it. I couldn’t protect you, and we got married. And then somewhere along the line, I got attached to you. I fell in love with you. And things changed, Tori. Things are different now. I didn’t know who I was when I wasn’t atoning for Violet’s death. And now, partially in thanks to you, I think I have some idea.”

                I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I don’t think I really like where it’s headed. “And?”

                “And?” he shakes his head. “I just feel like I can do something with my life now. Something different. Something else. Like I can finally move on.” He shrugs. “I don’t know if maybe trying to help you get past your fears helped me get past mine, but I don’t want to teach here forever. I want to do something with my life.”

                “Like what?”

                “Go back to Britain?” he asks himself. “Take up my father’s seat in government? Do something completely different? Maybe live in the Otherworld for a while?”

                I stare at him, frozen in place. _The Otherworld? Something has changed._ He turns back to look at me. “So,” I say softly. “Where do I fit into all of this big life talk?”

                He shakes his head. “Do I even need to say it?”

                “I-“ I swallow. “I would appreciate hearing it.”

                “I want you with me,” he says. “Wherever we go, I want you by my side, so long as you still want to be there.”

                I breathe out, then breathe in again. This is good news, I just can’t figure out why I’m not excited to hear it. I glance back up at him again. “No, I just, this is good, I’m happy,” I say. “I’m just trying to figure out when all this happened. Back at the beach? Has it been building over time?” I glance at him. “Did it just happen suddenly after you had sex with me last week?”

                He smiles and look down, but I can’t help it. It’s a valid question. Ever since then, he’d been acting more boyish and charming, but I assumed it was just an unusually good mood. I had no idea that the change had been possibly permanent. Suddenly he looks away and the expression on his face changes completely. “When I thought you died, I knew I couldn’t stay here anymore.” He shakes his head. “I had no idea where I would go or what I would do, but I knew I couldn’t stay here. I knew I couldn’t teach again after I essentially killed a student I was supposed to be looking after.”

                “I’m not just a student,” I grumble.

                “Which is what makes it worse,” he says, looking at me seriously. “Our relationship is very unconventional, Tori. By all accounts-“

                “If you say we shouldn’t even be together I will slap you, and I don’t care how hurt you are,” I tell him. He chuckles and looks away. “I just- this will wait, right?”

                “Wait?” he repeats.

                “Until after I finish school?” I look up at him anxiously. “I don’t want to have to go through the next two years with you off in Britain or somewhere. I’d be too worried something could happen to you.”

                “I’m glad the feeling is mutual,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

                I breathe out a slow, shaky laugh. “Is this going to ever get any easier?” I ask.

                “Hm?”

                “Between us, is it going to get any easier?” He looks at me in confusion. “I mean, this whole almost dying thing. First I try to save you from almost dying, then you save me from almost dying, and then I think you saved me from almost dying next, and now it turns out I need to keep a much closer eye on you to keep you from dying-“

                “Fair point,” he says. “Hence why I didn’t want you to know. I figured you would only blame yourself for failing to protect me.”

                “Will you leave me a note next time?” I ask anxiously. “Like, in the morning, before you go? I woke up in the morning and you just weren’t there. I figured you went down to the mail room early, and then wanted space from me so you went off to read somewhere, but when you didn’t come back-“

                “First of all, I wasn’t looking for space from you,” he says. “I do enjoy our time together. I just wanted to run a quick experiment. I meant to return by early afternoon. I had no idea things would go so awry. But I never intended on leaving you ignorant of my whereabouts.”

                “Except the past few days,” I tell him. “Think about if the situation was reversed. Wouldn’t you have done everything you could to find me and keep me safe?”

                He closes his eyes and smiles. “Yes, although I am pleased you stayed put and kept yourself safe. I was concerned you would come looking for me, which is why I asked Professor Potsdam to get your friends to come keep you company. I was hoping they would prove enough of a distraction until my return.”

                “That was your idea?” I ask. “I figured you would be mad as hell to find other students in your room, especially Donald.”

                “As long as they didn’t touch anything-“ he warns, and I shake my head. “Well then it worked. You stayed put.”

                “I’m not a child,” I cross my arms over my chest. “You could have just told me that you were messing around and got hurt.”

                “And admit that I made a mistake?” he asks.

                I snicker. “Men and their fragile egos.” I glance down at him. “Although speaking of fragile…” He looks at me in confusion. “You’ve never worn a night shirt in front of me before. Are there…scars?”

                “Would you mind terribly if there were?” I think about it for a moment before shaking my head. “Well, have a look then.” He pushes back the blanket and I peel up the corner of his night shirt slowly. He looks the same.

                “You look fine,” I say, almost in surprise.

                “I didn’t want to come home until I was,” he says. “I know how difficult it is for you to keep your hands off me.” I gape at him then bite my lip, turning away.

                “Should I punish you for that?” I ask him as he picks up the piece of toast.

                “Not quite yet,” he says. “I think a few more days on the mend-“

                “But then why are you wearing a night shirt?”  

                He shrugs. “I was feeling vulnerable,” he says at length. “I wasn’t quite sure how you would react when you saw me. I was hoping you would be relieved to see me, but after so many days without word from me, I would be lying if I said I didn’t expect at least some of your anger.”

                I look down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

                He tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

                “I could have handled it better,” I argue. “I saw you. I saw you didn’t look well. You looked sick, and tired, and pale, and I pushed you anyway.”

                “And you never would have reacted that way if I hadn’t kept you in the dark,” he responds. “Besides, I walked in on the middle of one of your little speeches. I knew right then I was not going to get a favorable welcoming, no matter what I did. Once you get started-“

                “Okay, okay,” I say, biting back the smile that’s threatening to break through. “I was at my breaking point. I didn’t know what had happened to you. I felt so useless and pathetic and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

                “You are not useless,” he says firmly. “I heard what you said last night, Tori, and worrying about yourself does not make you selfish. _If_ something had happened to me, your life would still go on. You would still have a long and happy life ahead of you, and I’m sure you would find someone else who-“

                “Stop.” My hand clenches around the edge of his night shirt and I refuse to meet his eyes. I don’t want to think about what life would be like without him. I had already dared myself to entertain that idea once or twice this week, and they were not happy thoughts. Sure, I wasn’t yet eighteen, maybe I would meet someone else and fall in love with them, but honestly the thought made me sick to my stomach. I loved _Hieronymous_. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with _Hieronymous_. Thinking about replacing him with someone else was unfathomable to me. There were other people in the world, but _none_ of them could ever look after me or care for me the way Hieronymous did. After all that he had been through, after all that _we_ had been through, _together_ , I knew deep down that I would never experience a love like his again.   

                I feel like I’m going to start crying again, and I have to blink and look away. It doesn’t matter how many times I remind myself that he is here right in front of me, the thought that something could happen to him makes me feel physically ill. He brushes his hand against my cheek, and I lean into his touch, embracing the sensation. _I missed this._

                He looks down at his nightshirt and pinches up a corner. “If you prefer, I could always take this off.”

                A small giggle escapes me, and I let it come. I know what he’s trying to do, and I let him. We only have a few days left of break, and I don’t want to spend it dwelling on hypotheticals. “If you want to,” I say, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible. “If it helps, I can take mine off too. Sweeten the pot.”

                He doesn’t move and so I quickly slide my sweatshirt off over my head. I wasn’t wearing anything underneath, and so I just sit there, smirking at him, calling his bluff. I can see the look that comes over his face, and I have to look away again.

                “So we still have a few days of break left,” I say, trying to draw attention from myself. “Is there anything you wanted to do?” In response, he holds his hand out to me. I know what it is. An invitation. I take it and he pulls me on top of him. “And what happened to your ‘few days on the mend,’ exactly?”

                “I thought you knew by now, I’m a terrible liar,” he says softly, as I giggle and fall into his embrace. “Be gentle, though.”

                “Oh, me? Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/24 - Hey guys, so I really hate to say this, but this story is going on a bit of a hiatus for a while as I crank out another story. I had written The Cracks in Her Memory in its completion prior to posting it which is what allowed me to post daily updates, and then I sort of continued this on the side but it's taken up less and less of my focus. That being said, I do have about ten pages worth of notes as to where to take the story from here, but they're a bunch of short little mini arcs, like chapters 4-7, not one long over-arching plot like the previous story, but I'd like there to be one, and so I want to give myself time to actually think of a way to incorporate the mini arcs into a larger story and just not put small stuff out there just for the sake of posting content. I'm sorry if this disappoints anyone, but I just want to thank you so much for reading and I hope I'll be able to figure out something soon!! This story is a lot of fun for me to write and so I will return to it, eventually, I just can't say when, so I wanted to leave off here on a happyish note. Thanks once again for all your support, patience, and understanding!! Cheers!!


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